G'Kar and Mollari: The Discovery of the Nenta
by Bearthsong
Summary: G'Kar and Mollari set off for a drive in the countryside on Londo's home planet of Centauri Prime. They plan to search the farms there to determine whether or not there are any enslaved Narns who were brought over as laborers during the Second Centauri Occupation of Narn. If so, G'Kar is determined to have his best friend/worst enemy set them free.
1. A Pleasant drive in the Country

18

 _ **G'Kar and Mollari: The Discovery of the Nenta**_

 _ **Chapter One: A Pleasant Drive in the Country**_

 _(A Fan-Fiction story based upon the "Babylon 5" Universe created by J. Michael Straczynski)_

The ground-car sped along the country road, whirring its way past astoundingly green fields filled with bountiful crops. The quaint stone houses that lined the road did not fit in with one large Narn's idea of the Centauri home-world.

When G'Kar, the Narn Ambassador to the Interstellar Alliance (which was presently based on the space station Babylon 5), looked out the window of the vehicle he was amazed. The lush beauty of the surrounding countryside was a far cry from his home-world of Narn, which had been forced to endure two Centauri occupations and which had subsequently been turned into a virtual dust desert.

Over the past two years, G'Kar's people had been attempting to rebuild the Narn home-world, but it had thus far been a heart-breaking, long, and arduous task.

The second occupation had been particularly brutal; the Narn home-world had been bombarded by the Centauris' use of mass-drivers, weapons which had been unanimously banned by just about every civilized world in the galaxy. When G'Kar thought back to that horrible day two years ago when they all learned that Narn had been attacked, he would have never guessed that just two years later, he would become friends (of sorts) with the architect of that monstrous attack: Londo Mollari, the Centauri Ambassador to Babylon 5. Mollari was also known in the Royal Court as being the Prime Minister who was most likely next in line to become Emperor of Centauri Prime. Thus, Mollari often had to divide his time between his duties on Babylon 5 and his duties on Centauri Prime. G'Kar had been appointed personal bodyguard to Mollari whenever the would-be Emperor returned to his home-world of Centauri Prime.

"Well, well, G'Kar," Londo said to him, "I see you are actually admiring the beauty of Centauri Prime. Is it not perfection?"

G'Kar could not help but feel jealousy and resentment about the unfairness of it all; Narn was in ruins while Centauri Prime boasted the most fertile farmlands in the entire quadrant.

"I was comparing your world to mine, Mollari," G'Kar replied sadly, "Your use of mass-drivers completely decimated Narn, rendering this kind of vegetative beauty impossible on my world."

Mollari sighed, as if he were being asked to remember a vaguely unpleasant family squabble.

"Will you never stop reminding me, G'Kar?" he asked the Narn.

Ordinarily, the pair maintained an unspoken agreement not to bring up the subject of their respective past atrocities one to the other. There had already been too much hatred between the two of them and their peoples; and it had ended very tragically for both of them, especially for the people of G'Kar's world.

G'Kar often wondered what would have happened had he attempted to work harder for peace as opposed to his old goal of exterminating the entire Centauri species. In the past two years, he had been slowly undergoing a spiritual transformation, and he knew that he had been very wrong in many of the actions that he had taken in the past, against not only the Centauris, but against other vulnerable populations as well. In the past it had been his hatred that had driven him, but by now he had finally, after having undergone a process of tormented soul-searching, out-grown much of his vengeful thinking.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the remnants of the old hatred pass through him. He had long since learned not to ignore those feelings, lest they re-surface at another time to savage his inner world. By letting them pass through his mind and heart as clouds traipse across the sun, however, he found that he could function in a far more emotionally balanced way than he used to do.

"I can never forget, Londo," he replied, "How can I? To you, Narn was simply a bygone target, the tragic recipient of your past crimes. To me, on the other hand—Narn was the home of my family, my friends, my ancestors! I remember hiking up the mountain with my brother's family to pray to G'Quan in the early morning sunlight. He and I would joke with each other about the ridiculous nature of politics while the pouchlings romped about and sang songs..."

"G'Kar!" Londo interrupted, "That is not fair. You have no idea of the depth of my guilt as I watched your home-world being bombarded with mass-drivers. I would not have ever thought of or have wanted to use them, but Lord Refa forced my hand. And that murderous Shadow-Man, Mr. Morden, who provided me with the power and the means to destroy your people—if I could do the whole thing over again, I would have told both he and Refa to go to hell."

"Perhaps we should concentrate on the task at hand," the big, red-eyed Narn replied, "Since neither of us can go back and change what we did to each other."

"' _We',_ G'Kar?" Londo queried, his large "fan-tail" hair-do bouncing slightly as he faced his nemesis-turned-companion-and-bodyguard, "Don't tell me you have suffered guilt about the past? I thought I was the only villain amongst us."

"I have many regrets, Mollari," G'Kar retorted, returning to the use of the Centauri's family name, "One of them was what I did to Commander Sinclair and the Vorlon Ambassador Kosh when I first came to Babylon 5."

"Ah, yes," Mollari agreed, seeming to brighten at the prospect of his Narn companion experiencing remorse, "and as I recall, you also black-mailed me into voting the innocent Sinclair off the station on an attempted murder charge, for a crime that he did not commit. You tried to frame him for the attempted assassination of Ambassador Kosh. You would have had him handed over to the Vorlons for false justice if you had been successful. Thank the Great Maker that Sinclair and his team stopped your Minbari criminal friend from finishing his sordid deed. The Vorlons would have destroyed the station in their anger. You and the rogue Minbari endangered the entire station of Babylon 5 with your disgraceful mischief!"

"Yes," G'Kar admitted, pursing his lips in chagrin, "Although I have always officially denied my involvement in the grim affair. Sinclair afterwards gave me a drink which had supposedly been spiked with a piece of nano-technology in it—one which would attach itself to my intestines..."

"Ah, yes!" Mollari chimed in, "The non-existent nano-technology that Sinclair told you would be unleashed upon your digestive system if you ever did anything to endanger the station again. And did your doctors have a good time searching your insides for this little piece of technology?"

"Sinclair lied to me," G'Kar growled, "He told me that he could simply press a button on his nefarious little hand-device and send my intestines into disarray. I spent a day and a half on my Uncle G'Sten's ship while the Narn doctor on board searched for the schrocking thing. Finally, we discovered there was nothing there—after I had gone through a torment which was almost as bad as that which your _dear little Emperor_ _Cartagia_ put me through when he was torturing me within the walls of your fine Centauri palace."

"G'Kar!" Mollari exclaimed, offended, "He was most certainly not my "dear little Emperor Cartagia". He is gone, and good riddance to the mad little monster-brat. And as for you and your Narn doctor's intestinal search for the Nano-tech piece, or " _beep-beep"_ device, as our good friend Mr. Garibaldi referred to it—well, it served you right for all of your nasty tricks and schemes."

G'Kar shot Mollari a dark glance, but he knew that the most annoying Centauri in the Universe was correct. Knowing that he had been part of a plot to assassinate the Vorlon Ambassador Kosh—even if it had been indirectly—and that he had attempted to frame Sinclair, the former Commander of Babylon 5, for murder was now a deep source of shame for him every time he thought about it. Fortunately, the plot had failed and Kosh had survived the attempt at that particular time.

G'Kar preferred to forget about the whole miserable affair, just as he did not wish to remember his peoples' dishonorable sneak attack on the Centauri agricultural colony of Ragesh 3. Londo's atrocities, of course, completely overshadowed G'Kar's and made them seem insignificant in comparison. Nevertheless, he remembered the day that Sinclair had lambasted him for the Ragesh 3 attack, calling it a "cowardly" action against the mainly civilian colony. G'Kar had been furious at Sinclair and had tried to hide the more damning details of the attack, but Sinclair had caught one of his Narn Fleet Commanders in the act of engaging in the nefarious activity. It was proven that the Narns had not "liberated" Ragesh 3 as he, the Narn Ambassador to Babylon 5, had claimed at the time. Instead, the Narns had indeed engaged in a "sneak attack" on the civilian colony.

When Sinclair had confronted him with the evidence, G'Kar had been exposed as a liar and a complete fool. As he contemplated his terrible mistakes of the past, he felt even more ashamed now than he had then.

Thankfully, Londo Mollari was not pressing his luck in cajoling G'Kar about his past "tricks and schemes". Obviously, he did not want G'Kar to come back at him with some of his own dark "tricks and schemes."

"Well, G'Kar," Mollari added, "Perhaps we should both let the past go for now. We can always pick it up again later should we wish to torment ourselves with it."

"Londo," G'Kar said suddenly, peering intently into his eyes, "I apologize for what I did to your colony and to your nephew, Carn Mollari, during the Ragesh 3 attack. It was very wrong of me."

"You, G'Kar?" Mollari replied in astonishment, "Admitting that you were wrong? I need to give myself a pinch to make sure I just heard you correctly. You, G'Kar—apologizing to me? After everything I did to your world? It is astounding!"

"Not really," G'Kar told him in a matter-of-a-fact manner, "I am only acknowledging my own faults. They are not nearly as numerous as yours, of course—but nonetheless, your nephew was innocent of all your flaws and machinations. I am sorry for what we did—threatening him with death if he did not deliver our message the way we wanted it delivered. We bullied the people of Ragesh 3 into submission, and I now see clearly the error in that."

"Yes," agreed Mollari, "I well remember your lies about Ragesh 3 having been "liberated" by you Narn barbarians. It infuriates me just thinking about it."

G'Kar felt his blood pressure rising at the mention of the term "Narn barbarians". It angered him to hear this particular Centauri barbarian's hypocritical criticisms. Still, G'Kar knew after having prayed and meditated on his past actions every day for the past two years that he was not immune to hypocrisy himself. He had come a long way in terms of having a deeper self-awareness, and he also knew that Londo Mollari had gone through a similar process of self-confrontation. Both of them were, whether they liked it or not, on a journey towards forgiveness—not of the atrocities which had been committed, for no one person could ever forgive such horrors on behalf of entire populations—but rather they were on a journey of forgiveness towards themselves and each other. G'Kar hated to admit it, but he knew that he and Londo Mollari were like spiritual twin brothers. How else could he explain their odd "friend/enemy" counter-relationship? They had once hated each other with a virulent passion, but now that their wars were over, they were learning to respect each other in spite of their past cruelties toward one another. G'Kar did not quite understand it, but he would not be surprised if it was the Universe's way of making him atone for what he had done because of his hatred for Centauris and other strangers who had disagreed with him and his militaristic methods.

"Excuse me, Londo, G'Kar," the Centauri driver called from the front, "but I believe we've arrived at the first farm that you wanted to visit."

Londo's assistant, Vir Cotto, stopped the vehicle and stepped out of the ground-car. He was dressed in a brown tunic and matching pants, while his "fan-tail" hair-do appeared somewhat lop-sided. Vir, who was once a fairly chubby man, had lost a good deal of weight over the past couple of years. It was hardly surprising; the past two years had been very hard on Vir. He had been the unlikely one to kill the mad Emperor, Cartagia. Even though it was something that had needed to be done to save both Narn and Centauri Prime from destruction, Vir continued to harbor a sense of guilt over what he had done to the young man. He had tended to function, for most of the time that he was stationed at Babylon 5, as Londo Mollari's conscience. He had been active in secretly stowing away and then transporting captive Narns to safety during the Narn-Centauri war. G'Kar had never properly thanked Cotto for what he did to save so many Narns' lives during that terrible time. He made a mental note to himself to do so in the future. Before that time, G'Kar had treated Vir as an underling hardly worthy of notice, but now he realized that it was time to change that.

"And you think that it is here that the Narn prisoners were taken, Mr. Cotto?" G'Kar asked eagerly.

"I can't be sure if the prisoners are still here, G'Kar," Cotto told him, "Most of the Narns that I brought through went to other worlds where they would be safer. I only know that some of my compatriots brought over a number of groups in order to work the fields during planting season. Some of them arrived from the recent conflict, but many were born here. Their parents and grand-parents were brought here a long time ago from the first Centauri Occupation of Narn. Those Narns speak only Centauri and would not know how to fit in if they were brought back to Narn—especially in its present state."

G'Kar growled at the mention of the state of his home-world. He did not have time to reply however, as a rather portly Centauri male dressed in very basic clothing came rushing out to meet them, bowing all the way.

"Prime Minister Mollari!" the farmer greeted him, "I am Varnas Sylko. I am very, very honored to welcome such a fine person to my humble abode. Please, do come in for a cup of tea. My wife would very much like to meet you."

Varnas Sylko did not have much hair on his head, and what he did have was not in any way arranged in the aristocratic "fan-tail" hair-do. He was a Centauri peasant, perhaps the first one that G'Kar had ever seen in his life. His manner was clearly different from the aristocrats—there was none of the typical Centauri arrogance that he had come to expect of Mollari's people. He suddenly realized that this farmer was part of a quiet majority on Centuari Prime. The Aristocrats and rulers were extremely powerful, but they only made up a small fraction of the population in general. G'Kar wondered what kind of attitude he would be receiving from Sylko—after all, if what Vir had said was correct, he could be the Chief Servant in charge of the Narn slaves. There was no doubt a Lord who ruled Sylko and the other farmers, but it was likely that he did not have as much to do with the day-to-day dealings with the slaves as Sylko did.

Mollari was protesting Sylko's offer of hospitality, but G'Kar wanted to know more about this man, so he intervened.

"Mollari, where are your manners?" he chided him, "Mr. Sylko has offered you his hospitality—the least you can do is to honor him with your glorious presence."

"Your Narn servant may enter the house as well, Prime Minister," Sylko said to Mollari, "He seems to have been well-trained in house manners."|

"Oh, yes I have, Mr. Sylko, thank you," G'Kar answered on behalf of Mollari, "Come along, _Master Mollari._ I'll let you enter first, of course."

"All right, G'Kar, my _dear little servant_ ," Mollari muttered sarcastically, "I never thought I would live to see the day _you_ would refer to me as ' _Master'_."

The trio followed Sylko into a small stone cottage. His wife was stirring a big pot, which was hanging over a kind of fire-pit. The fire-pit was in the middle of the kitchen, with everything else arranged around it.

"This is my wife, Troja," Sylko announced, "And this, Troja, is Prime Minister Londo Mollari, accompanied by his aide, Vir Cotto. Master Cotto arranged this tour for the Prime Minister, you know."

"Prime Minister, it is an honor," Troja greeted Mollari, "I am sorry that our home is so humble. I hope it does not offend you."

"No, indeed, dear lady," Mollari greeted Troja, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it in his annoyingly charming manner.

Troja laughed somewhat nervously, glancing at her husband. Varnas Sylko merely shrugged. Apparently aristocrats could get away with anything in the home of a peasant.

"I will make you two fine gentlemen some tea," Troja told them, busying herself with the preparations, "and I will bring some for your servant as well. Spot!"

An elderly Narn appeared in the kitchen. He was dressed in clothing similar to that of Varnas, and he had Centauri letters tattooed across his arm. G'Kar was fluent in both spoken and written Centauri, but he knew exactly what the letters said without reading them: _**"Property of the Centauri Republic".**_

He had been given the same tattoo when he had been a child growing up on the Centauri-occupied Narn home-world.

"What is your servant's name, Prime Minister?" Troja asked.

Mollari told her, and she looked very puzzled.

"G'Kar," she repeated, "That doesn't sound like the kind of name that you would give a Narn servant."

"G'Kar is not a servant, dear lady," Mollari explained, "He is actually a diplomat from the Narn home-world, but he is serving as my bodyguard—of his own accord."

Troja suddenly looked upon G'Kar with fear.

"You mean...he is an untrained savage?" she stammered.

"No," Mollari answered hastily, at the same time as G'Kar answered, "Yes."

"I was trained as a pouchling, Mistress Sylko," G'Kar explained, "I served in a Centauri household with my parents until finally the Centauri army was obliged to leave our world."

Troja peered at G'Kar in a kind of fascinated horror.

"Ahhh...Spot!" Varnas cried on behalf of his wife, "Would you bring...G'Kar...into the back room? Troja will give you some tea to serve him. You are to speak with him while we entertain our guests, do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Varnas," ' _Spot'_ replied obediently.

He led G'Kar to the 'back room', and the pair of them sat on the floor. The elder looked at him warily.

"What is your real name?" G'Kar asked in Centauri. He knew that the servant would not be allowed to speak Narn, if indeed he even knew how to speak his native tongue.

"My name is 'Spot', as the Master told you," he replied, "And you...is it true that you are a barbarian from the Old World?"

"I," G'Kar said, proudly drawing himself up, "am a Narn. And so are you, my friend...although I don't doubt that the Centauris have discouraged you from learning even a single thing about your own people."

"My people are here...on the farm," Spot replied, "My wife, my children...all of us have grown up on the farmlands of Lord Styella. We have worked here for generations."

"When did your people first arrive here?" G'Kar asked.

"My grandfather was transported here in the early days of the Centauri occupation of the Old World. He raised his family on these lands, and I raised mine on them, as well. We are very proud to be members of the Sylko family. Varnas Sylko's grandfather was Chief Servant to Lord Styella, and that post has been handed down to Sylko's father and finally to himself. The Sylkos have taken us into their family and have been supervising us for three generations now. My full name is Spot Sylko...not every Nenta is fortunate enough to be awarded a Centauri family name."

"What is a ' _Nenta'_?" G'Kar queried, "Some kind of social class for _the inferiors?_ "

"We are not inferior," Spot-Sylko replied, offended, "We serve our Lord proudly as members of the Sylko family. They are our supervisors...we are the Nenta."

"And the Nenta are...?" G'Kar prodded the strange servant.

"We are...a combination of Narn...and Centauri...therefore, _Nenta._ We are not full Centauri citizens, and of course we do not deserve to be. We were once savages as you are, but the Centauris civilized us...do not fret, G'Kar, for they will civilize you as well."

"Yes," G'Kar replied ruefully, "I had a taste of the last Centauri Emperor's _civilizing_ influence a couple of years ago, when I was a prisoner of war."

"You fought in a war against our Great Masters?" Spot-Sylko asked incredulously, as though no being in the Universe could possibly consider going to war against the cherubic Centauris.

"Yes," G'Kar answered, "And we lost badly. We are now attempting to re-build the...Old World, as you call it. Our friends Londo and Vir finally helped to... _liberate_ Narn, in a manner of speaking."

"G'Kar!" Spot-Sylko spoke sternly, "You ought not to refer to your masters by their premier names. You must call them _'Master Mollari'_ and Master...I'm sorry, I don't know the family name of your other Master."

"Cotto," G'Kar replied, "I apologize, Mr. Sylko, for my lack of decorum regarding my two companions...but you know, there _are_ places in this Universe where Narns are permitted to rule themselves. Whenever we find ourselves in this fortunate position, we vow _never again to_ refer to any Centauri as _Master."_

"I'm sorry, G'Kar, I cannot agree with you," Spot-Sylko countered, "I _heard_ you calling the Prime Minister _Master Mollari_ when you entered the Sylko home,as well you should. And you should _never_ refer to me as 'Mr. Sylko'. I am only ever called 'Spot'. I see I have much to teach you...if you are staying on as a worker, that is."

"No, I'm not," G'Kar told him, "But I may have a proposal for you later on...oh, schrock! Can I please call you something other than _'Spot'?_ It makes you sound like one of those canine creatures the Humans use as pets."

"You wish to call me _'Schrock'_ G'Kar? And what are... _H'yoomuns?_ "

"They look like the Centauris, but they're kinder and generally more respectful of peoples' freedom...at least, nowadays. And no...I don't want to call you _Schrock..._ that is a Narnish swear word. I would like to call you...G'Quarn, for you remind me of my father."

"I am honored," Spot-turned-G'Quarn answered, "And did I hear you say that your parents served in a Centauri household before you...became _liberated?"_

"You hear very well for an old one, G'Quarn," G'Kar told him, "Yes, my father was a servant in a Centauri household on Narn. He spilled hot _jhalla_ on the Mistress by mistake and was killed for it. Eventually, we pushed the Centauris off our world...we taught them that they could no longer kick us into the ground and treat us like animals."

G'Quarn stared at G'Kar, as though he were unsure as to whether he ought to be listening to this rebellious upstart who had just changed his name for him.

"Don't let the Masters hear you calling me 'G'Quarn'," he warned, his voice lowered, "They would be most offended that I had so casually cast off my traditional name for a savage one...but I do not say this to dishonor your father, G'Kar. I am sure that he was a good and loyal servant...as _you_ should have been."

They were interrupted by Troja, who had brought in a jug of hot tea for them.

"And just what is this rogue telling you, Spot?" she asked him, setting the jug on the floor beside the two Narns.

"Excuse me, Mistress Sylko, but do you have any cups we can drink out of?" G'Kar asked.

"G'Kar!" G'Quarn/Spot scolded him, "How dare you ask for cups? We take turns drinking from the jug, of course."

"I would like to use a cup," G'Kar said softly, looking up at the Centauri matron in a child-like manner.

"Well!" Troja exclaimed, "I have never heard such rudeness from a Narn before in my entire life. I think you need to teach this one some true manners, Spot. And as for you, G'Kar—asking for a cup! Shame on you."

"Is everything all right, my dear lady?" Mollari asked, entering the room somewhat anxiously, "I do hope my Narn companion is not being too annoying?"

"Yes, _Master_ Mollari, I have been. I asked the dear lady for a cup—and, as I have been told, _shame on me_ for being so intolerably rude."

"Well, perhaps it is time for us to be leaving, anyways," Mollari replied, "We do not wish to overstay our welcome, do we, G'Kar?"

G'Kar stood up. He stared at Mollari intently for a moment.

"What about the Narns on this farm?" he asked finally, "Are we to simply leave them here, in this state of servitude...or perhaps I should call it for what it is...slavery!"

"G'Kar!" Mollari growled, "You know we cannot just take these peoples' property. We have laws on Centauri Prime!"

"Oh, laws," G'Kar replied sardonically, "Well, I wouldn't know what those were anyways—being the Narn savage that I am and not a civilized Centauri, I had always understood that persons were _not_ property. Silly old me!"

"We can only bring with us those Narns that were taken recently, from the second occupation," Mollari explained, "Varnas has assured me that all of his Narns are from the first."

"I would like to personally inspect their conditions—whether they are from the second or the first occupation is irrelevant to me."

"Why...who do you think you are, you barbarian?" Troja asked angrily, "Telling the Prime Minister that you would like to _inspect_ our Narn and Nenta workers! Prime Minister Mollari, are you not going to punish your servant?"

"No, Madam Troja, I am not," Mollari finally conceded, "He is not my servant, as I told you before. He has been re-established in his position as the Narn Ambassador since his home-world has been liberated, and he is a very important person...a great writer of holy books and declarations of moral principles. He has earned my respect, and he has generously agreed to act as my bodyguard while I am here on Centauri Prime. I feel that I owe him a favor in return. I promised that we would tour the farms to see if there were any Narns on them—from the second occupation only—yes, G'Kar?"

G'Kar's eyes narrowed. The idea of leaving _any_ members of the Narn race on Centauri Prime did not sit well with him. If he became too demanding, however, he knew that _no_ Narns would receive their freedom.

He nodded slowly, and Mollari ordered Varnas Sylko to take them to where the Narn servants and workers were staying. Varnas looked at his wife in a worried fashion, but did as he was told. It was, after all, the Prime Minister of Centauri Prime who was giving the order.

Sylko took them up a path and through a wooded area. They were obliged to hike a fair distance in order to reach the workers' camp. G'Kar found the walk to be exceptionally pleasant. He could not remember a time when he had walked through a place with so many beautiful green-leafed trees. Some of the trees had silver bark, while others had blue leaves. A bevy of pink, long-tailed birds darted about in the branches, singing songs and chirping to each other. It was indeed strange to behold such pristine conditions amidst a place of toil and strife. As they moved further along the path, G'Kar noticed a long, yellow-furred creature winding its way through the vegetation.

"What is that?" G'Kar asked Varnas.

"It's a Wexl," Varnas replied, having reluctantly accepted the fact that this particular Narn occupied a higher social position than he did, "They can be bothersome. They often attack and eat our captive fowl. We can't set traps for them because the last Emperor, Turhan, put them on our list of protected species. They are so numerous now that they no longer need to be protected, but no one ever took them off the list; and so we are stuck with putting up with the vermin."

"They are most beautiful," G'Kar mused, "I must admit that you are living on an astounding world, Mr. Sylko...and when I say that, I mean the natural world, not the political landscape."

"G'Kar has never in his life seen such beauty," Mollari explained, "His home-world was decimated and stripped of much of its natural resources. We, however, are fortunate that the old Emperor Turhan was a lover of nature. He took bold steps to protect the natural resources of Centauri Prime."

G'Kar made no retort to Mollari's comment, but he thought it ironic that such fabulous gifts of life could be referred to as "resources". He supposed, though, if he were honest with himself, that he had to admit that Narns had taken on this same way of thinking after the Centauris had left their world the first time. Narns used to be wise caretakers of their world, but after they had been enslaved for over a hundred years by the Centauri, they had become like their conquerors in the manner in which they thought and behaved.

The Centauri peasant made his way over to a group of long bunk houses similar to the ones that used to be set up on Narn when G'Kar was a pouchling, and then again a couple of years ago when the Narn home-world was re-captured for over a year.

When they arrived at the houses, there were few Narns there.

"They are all out in the fields," Varnas explained, "It is planting season, you see."

A woman in a very basic grey robe was sweeping the porch of one of the bunk-rooms. When G'Kar looked at her, he did a double take. She appeared at first to be a Narn, complete with spots on her head and a Narnish facial appearance. But when he looked more closely, he noticed that her head was much smaller than that of most Narns. It was shaped more like that of a Centauri, or a Human. To his shock, she was wearing a long tail of hair at the back of her mostly bald head. Was she a Narn or a Centauri? Or...both?


	2. The Nenta

10

 _ **G'Kar and Mollari: The Discovery of the Nenta**_

 _ **Chapter Two: The Nenta**_

"Lord Styella!" Mollari stormed at the wealthy Centauri landowner, "I demand to know what kind of nefarious activities you are engaging in here on these farms!"

The minute Londo Mollari had set eyes on the Narn/Centauri female named Ra'Laine Sylko he had ordered Varnas to send for his Master, the Lord Tellaine Styella. A few moments later, a rather disgruntled aristocrat had been shuttled up to the Narn work camp to meet with the Prime Minister. As he stepped out of his personal hover-craft, Lord Styella poked the ground with his walking cane. The cane was crafted from pure gold and had many intricate designs engraved all over it. Styella was somewhat elderly, and he looked to G'Kar as though he could have been old enough to be an adult while Narn was being occupied for the first time. His hair was grey, but it was spread out in such a flawless fan-tail arch that it positively shouted pride and privilege everywhere he stepped, decked out in his silver robe and wearing his gem-studded shoes.

The Centauri landowner had arrived so promptly that G'Kar had not been given much of an opportunity to introduce himself to the lovely Ra'Laine. She had the same red-hued eyes as G'Kar did, and she had called herself a member of the " _Nenta"_ people. This was the same term that G'Quarn/Spot had used with regard to himself and his people, even though G'Quarn was obviously a full Narn. The word "Nenta" likely was a combination of the words "Narn" and "Centauri". At any rate, G'Kar wished to speak with her, more so than he did Lord Styella.

"I am G'Kar, by the way," he said to her as Styella exchanged greetings with Mollari. He gave her the Narn gesture of respect: two clenched fists held to his breast while bowing his head. She frowned at him slightly, as though she considered him very odd.

"I do not directly train the Narn workers, G'Kar," Ra'Laine told him, her head held high. She said it in such a fashion as to indicate that she considered him to be beneath her in social rank, but at least equal enough to merit a response to his introduction.

"I am not a worker, Ra'Laine," G'Kar responded in a dignified tone, "I am the Narn Ambassador to the Interstellar Alliance. I am here to inspect the conditions in this camp."

"No," Ra'Laine told him, "You are very foolish if you believe that you will be permitted to parade about this settlement as though you were the very Emperor himself; not on this farm, you won't. I have no idea what the 'Interstellar Alliance' is, but they will now have to do without you, if Lord Styella has anything to say about it. You are a Narn, and therefore you will be taken for labor; and, you will remain here for the rest of your days."

"As pleasant as the prospect of staying here on the farm with you is, I'm afraid that I _will_ be leaving here, my dear. And I intend to take as many Narns back with me as I can. My companion is the Prime Minister of Centauri Prime, you see."

"You are very arrogant, Ambassador G'Kar of the Interstellar Alliance," Ra'Laine chided him, "As if the Prime Minister would lower himself to the level of being _your_ companion!"

"I see that you have never contemplated the idea that Narns...and Nenta...are free beings with their own capacity for self-determination? You and the others have obviously been brainwashed by Centauri propaganda."

"You!" Lord Styella shouted at G'Kar. He strode over to the big Narn, waving his cane in the air.

"I have checked my computer records of the first occupation of Narn," Styella sneered, "and you—the one they call G'Kar—are still listed as a slave of the Centauri Republic. We kept records of all the Narn servants from the first occupation, and I have determined your identity after having discussed your nefarious deeds with Prime Minister Mollari. You are the son of Arkonn Charisa's servant G'Quarn, yes? You are the nephew of the late war criminal, G'Sten?"

"My Uncle was a war hero, not a criminal," G'Kar declared proudly, glaring at Styella without wavering, "He helped to free our people during the first resistance, and he died defending our freedom in the Narn-Centauri war two years ago."

Styella turned red with rage, and hit the Narn across the backside with his cane. G'Kar gave a low-throated growl, and Mollari rushed over to insert himself between the two of them.

"Lord Styella, please, I beg of you!" Mollari pleaded, "Do not provoke G'Kar. He has suffered greatly for his people; believe me, he has already been punished a hundred times over for his crimes, and those of his people. You cannot take him into your custody—he is the Narn Ambassador to the Interstellar Alliance! You would create an interplanetary incident if you attempt to enslave him. President Sheridan takes a very dim view of slavery, and he respects G'Kar too much to allow this. The Centauri Republic cannot afford to alienate the Alliance after everything that we have done to create havoc during the Shadow Wars! I'm sorry, Tellaine, but you cannot have this one."

"I do not recognize the authority of anyone outside of the Republic," Styella snarled, "Interplanetary politics bore me. The only two planets that I have ever known are this one—and Narn. I was living there as a young agricultural specialist, and I saw the economic advantages of using a primitive group of people as laborers. I am not like the soldiers that were stationed there, employing violence and creating mayhem. Instead, Prime Minister Mollari, I have used a system of rewards and positive reinforcement to create a contented herd of Narn workers.

"You see, our scientists have determined that the Narn brain is very primitive; it operates only on instinct and emotion, and is capable of very little in the way of rationality. If you traumatize its system too much, the Narn animal becomes unbalanced; it turns savage, and it cannot help itself. We, and no doubt your hallowed President Sheridan, have anthropomorphized the Narns for years. We made the mistake of considering them persons, and I am afraid that they are not any more capable of personhood than a Wexl in the woods. Oh, they are clever and imitative, yes. But they are not capable of making their own decisions, once they are taken out of their primitive state. We, the Centauri, made the grand mistake of taking them out of their state of animal innocence, and now we have been made to pay the price for it.

"My quest, Mollari, has been most beneficent. I wish to help the Narn to re-enter their state of lost innocence. We do that by being firm with them, but also by showing kindness to them—especially when they behave themselves. Part of what we have been doing here is to create docile Narns through selective breeding. These Narns have been so well-bred that you could leave any one of them in charge of a Centauri babe and rest in perfect peace while they cared for, caressed, and sang lullabies to it. The other part of our selective breeding process, of course, has been to create Narn-Centauri hybrids. I consider this process as something like being a genetic sculptor; I love to use creativity in my artistic endeavors."

"Great Maker!" cried Mollari, "You can't be serious, Lord Styella! Do you mean to tell me that you have created these hybrid creatures deliberately?"

"Yes, of course," Styella replied calmly, "We hoped to create slightly more intelligent beings for supervisory roles, and so that is why we introduced Centauri DNA into the mix. You would be amazed at how compatible Narn and Centauri DNA are for inter-breeding purposes. At any rate, Mollari—you may quibble with my methods, but you must admit that I have done very well for myself. There is not a farm on Centauri Prime over which I do not have direct or indirect power. I am the premier breeding specialist of Narn laborers, and I have made a huge amount of money teaching my under-farmers how to train and breed their own Narns. We now have a home-grown population of Narns and Nentas that exceeds the five million mark. And, because of my superior training methods, they are all exceedingly content to work on Centauri farms for the rest of their lives. Welcome to the new age of the Narn-breeding industry!"

"You are mad!" Mollari cried in horror, "What monster have you created with your...infernal inter-breeding program?"

G'Kar stood silently, watching as Mollari and Styella argued back and forth about the Narn-Centauri inter-breeding program. Just when he had thought that the Centauris could sink no lower in moral terms than they had already done over the past one hundred and thirty years or so, they surprised him by sinking that much lower. He was as shocked as Mollari by the horrific audacity of Styella, but he did not care to let them know that.

"You see, G'Kar?" Ra'Laine whispered to him, "Lord Styella is one of the wealthiest Lords in the whole Republic. Because of his wealth, he has even more power and influence than the Prime Minister...or even the Emperor!"

"It is not difficult to exceed the talents of the present Prime Minister," G'Kar whispered back, "And the Emperor, if I may be permitted to inform you, died last year."

"I know that, foolish one!" Ra'Laine cried, hitting him on the arm, "I am not stupid. But I think that you need to change out of those outlandish clothes. Come into the lodging hut and I will give you a Narn worker's loincloth. I am going to send you out to harvest the wild rugba, since you are such a wild-man yourself. This is to be your first duty—and since you are new, you will need to wear an obedience collar."

G'Kar followed her into the hut, but put up his hand to refuse the narrow metal collar that she was attempting to place around his neck.

"I cut through the last obedience collar that I wore as a young pouchling back on Narn, just after my father was killed by the Master," he told her darkly, "And I will not wear another one."

"G'Kar!" Ra'Laine pleaded with him, "I know you and your people were mistreated by the Centauri back on Narn—but here, it is different. We are not subjected to such horrors. Lord Styella is a very grumpy and argumentative old man, but he does care about our welfare, in his own way. If you learn to behave yourself, you will be treated fairly. Why, you may even earn the right to become a messenger, and go to town on your own!"

"Oh, my!" G'Kar could not stop himself from replying in a sarcastic tone, "To go to town by myself—as a messenger of my Centauri Lord! Well, it doesn't get any better than that, does it?"

"Oh, G'Kar!" Ra'Laine scolded him, "You are far too proud of yourself. If you continue to display such a disrespectful attitude, you will not earn any rewards from your superiors."

"I do not need to earn rewards from others!" G'Kar exclaimed, "I am a free Narn, and I make my own rewards. Would you not like to do the same, Ra'Laine? You could come with me, back to the station among the stars. It is named 'Babylon 5' and it has been run by Humans for the past five years. We work together there, for the greater freedom of all beings. You could be an Ambassador for the Nenta people—you could advocate for them, and pressure the Centauri Republic into freeing them. I could teach you what you need to know about making alliances with the other species of beings. You are far too intelligent to be wasting your time kowtowing to these...pompous Centauri asses!"

Ra'Laine looked at him in a knowing manner, bumping her hip against his seductively.

"Aha, G'Kar," she said, "I know what you want from me. So you would teach me to make alliances, would you? And I have no doubt that the first alliance would take place with me, in your bed. Would it not?"

"Only if you chose it," G'Kar replied, running his gloved finger over her cranium, "And I must admit that the prospect is most appealing. But I truly am not trying to seduce you, Ra'Laine! If you came to Babylon 5, there would be no expectation on my part that you become my friend. You would be free, for the first time in your life. You could make your own choices! Would that not appeal to you?"

"I make my own choices here," Ra'Laine retorted, "and besides, there would be no fields or birds or trees or Wexls on your star-station. There would be no breeze caressing my face. And, I do not think that the space station would be an appropriate setting for my five-year-old son, do you?"

A young Narn boy came running into the hut and crashed into his mother, embracing her with all his might. To G'Kar's surprise, the boy had a pony-tail/ruff of black hair growing at the back of his head, just as his mother did. This boy, however, had a distinctly Narn appearance, other than the hair.

"Who is that Narn, Mama?" the boy asked, "Does he belong to that fat man out there?"

"Hush, Telka!" Ra'Laine scolded him, "That is the Prime Minister of the Centauri court, Londo Mollari. He may become the Emperor one of these days, so don't you dare call him 'fat'."

"'Pleasantly plump' would be a more complimentary description of him," G'Kar said to the boy, "I am G'Kar, Telka. I am pleased to meet you."

"I am the son of Spot," Telka told him, "And he is one of the main Narn servants around here. Therefore, I outrank you, G'Kar. You must obey me!"

"Yes, Fine Sir," G'Kar answered in mock submission, somewhat bemused by the combination of the boy's fiery Narn energy and haughty Centauri arrogance.

His conversation with the two Nentas was interrupted once more by Lord Styella's grand entrance into the hut.

"You!" He bellowed at G'Kar, pointing his golden cane at him with the air of a mighty god, "You are Ilan. That, I have determined, was the name that your Centauri master, Arkonn Charisa, gave to you when you were a small child. Therefore, that is your name now. As I was saying before, you have never been de-registered as a slave of the Centauri Republic. I have been explaining the finer details of Centauri bureaucracy to our new Prime Minister, but he is having difficulty understanding. Ilan, you are hereby being claimed by the Centauri Republic, and I am taking over your ownership from Arkonn Charisa."

"But...but Lord Styella!" Mollari begged the older man, "You can't take over his ownership—he is a free Narn! He is my bodyguard, and I won't let you have him. This is ridiculous—I am the Prime Minister!"

"I have been granted legal authority by the former Emperor, Cartagia, to take charge of all Narns on Centauri Prime," Styella argued, "I'm afraid that even you are not above the law, Prime Minister. If you want to buy Ilan from me, you'll have to obtain written permission from the state, and written permission from Arkonn Charisa's son Lukkon. You will also need to fill out an application for ownership, and you will need to qualify for Narn stewardship by taking a written examination."

"Written examination?! This is outrageous!" cried Mollari, "Vir! You will go and try to arrange these things for us, yes? Go, now, my boy."

"Londo!" Vir exclaimed, "What about you and G'Kar? I can't just leave you here!"

"I will not leave G'Kar as long as he is being treated in this barbaric fashion!" Mollari told him, "Take the ground-vehicle and go, Vir. And contact Babylon 5...send a message to President Sheridan and Ambassador Delenn. They should know what has happened."

"Yes, Sir," Vir responded anxiously, running off on his bureaucratic nightmare of an errand.

G'Kar stared at Mollari in astonished disbelief.

"Do you mean to tell me, _Prime Minister Mollari,_ that you are unable to stand up to this...this Land Thief, this Body-Napper?" G'Kar asked in a furor, "We have come here to secure the freedom of Narns, not to add me to their list of unpaid laborers!"

Lord Styella gave his newest captive several whacks with the golden cane before Mollari grabbed it from him.

"Lord Styella!" He yelled, "Since you are unwilling to listen to me, then I must tell you that I intend to stay by G'Kar's side the entire time he is here. Consider this my peaceful protest on behalf of decent Centauris everywhere. I will stay with G'Kar until my aide returns with the paperwork."

"Very well, Prime Minister," Styella replied, calming himself slightly, "You may supervise Ilan's training, but you are not permitted to refer to him as 'G'Kar'. I think you will be pleasantly surprised at how well we treat him here. I will give you my personal handbook on how to deal with Narns, and you can study it so that you can pass your exam. If all my requirements are met, I may be generous and give you back your pet. But you _will_ call him by his proper name while he...and you, are here. Do I make myself clear, Mollari?"

"Yes, Old Man," Mollari responded, attempting to control his temper, "You have made yourself perfectly, crystal clear."


	3. Solidarity

14

 _ **G'Kar and Mollari: The Discovery of the Nenta**_

 _ **Chapter Three: Solidarity**_

G'Kar ran his hand up and down the wild _rugba_ plant, using his retractable claws to scrape as many seeds into his basket as he could. He had been obliged to put on the hated "obedience collar" in order to soothe Lord Styella's gargantuan ego, and he had been ordered by Ra'Laine to hand over his boots, gloves, and clothing to her. He was given a red loincloth to wear, complete with gold Centauri designs along the hem. Nearby, Londo Mollari sat on a big rock, watching him work.

"You know, Mollari," G'Kar said to him in a conversational tone, "You would be showing true solidarity with my plight if you took off your fine Centauri vestments and helped me with this work."

"G'Kar, you know I cannot do that," Mollari replied, "I am...allergic to rugba, for one thing. And for another, I must not be seen degrading myself to that degree while I am serving as Prime Minister."

"Ah, yes," G'Kar retorted, "But for slave-worker Ilan, it is perfectly acceptable for him to degrade himself to that degree, is it not? I have begun to discover that the powerful Prime Minister of Centauri Prime is rather impotent when it comes to advocating for Narn freedom. You cannot even negotiate freedom for your very own colleague and bodyguard, who is himself _already_ free!"

"Please, G'Kar!" Mollari replied, "I am in no mood for your insightful comments at the present moment. I will say, however, that I am beginning to understand how it is that you came to hate us so badly."

"You figured that out, did you?" G'Kar taunted him, "After mass-drivers, murderous conditions for surrender, and kicking me off the original Advisory Council, I thought you might have clued in then; but I was evidently mistaken. Perhaps I ought to have been more considerate by agreeing to your post-war terms that I go to Narn for trial and execution..."

"G'Kar!" Mollari screamed, "Stop it! Stop tormenting me with my past actions. I know that I have been a fool! You know I have come to respect you, after I witnessed your courage in the face of that madman, Cartagia. I had almost wished that I myself could take your place when you were being whipped in front of us, and indeed I did, in a way—in a dream I had about you and I, when I was about to die of that dreadful heart attack. We switched places in that dream, and I felt your torment while you became Emperor Cartagia—or at least, you were dressed like him.

"Later, when I awoke from my dream, I told you I was sorry. It was then that I began to recover from my illness. And you—you surprised me earlier today, when you apologized to me for your people's attack on Ragesh 3...and for the torture of my nephew, Carn. I don't think you had ever apologized to me for anything before, had you? Well, I must return that favor. G'Kar, I apologize to you for it all—the mass drivers, the post-war conditions for surrender, having you removed from the Advisory Council—all of these things I have come to regret. I apologize to you for this present insane situation, and I apologize to you for withholding that G'Quan-Eth plant when you wanted it for your religious ceremony. G'Kar, my friend—I apologize for everything that my crazy people have ever done to yours! I know that you have told me that you forgive me—as an individual only, and not for the collective atrocities, of course—but I don't know if I have ever given you...a proper apology. I offer it now."

G'Kar was silent for a couple of minutes. He continued to work diligently as Mollari put his head in his hands, exasperated by his Narn companion's lack of a response.

"Londo," he finally replied, "You did have to wait until I was standing in front of you in my underwear harvesting rugba seeds to apologize to me, didn't you?"

"G'Kar," Mollari said, "That is not underwear. Styella told me it was your traditional native costume, before our people conquered your world. He said it was designed to take you back to your original, natural state of being."

"Mollari, when my people used to dress like this, we would wear loincloths made of animal skin and furs. We did not wear pretty red loincloths made from fine Centauri linen, decorated with golden designs. As far as I am concerned, I have been outfitted in nothing but underwear."

"I suppose," Mollari retorted, "That is what you get, G'Kar, for flirting so outrageously with every Centauri female that we have come across in our travels. Ra'Laine obviously wished to see you in your original, natural state of being as well. What I don't understand is—why they are all so attracted to you? And don't say it is because of your 'animal magnetism'. Everywhere you go, you get attention from women, and I want to know your secret, my dear Narnish friend."

"I could give you my own personal handbook, back on Babylon 5," G'Kar replied, "But I would require you to undergo a written examination after you had studied it."

"All right, G'Kar!" Mollari threw up his arms, "That is it. I give in. I was lying to you. I am not allergic to rugba, I am allergic to physical labor. But I now intend to change that."

Prime Minister Londo Mollari suddenly stood up and threw off his ornate Ministerial clothing, down to his underwear. He then stood beside his friend G'Kar and began to scrape the rugba seeds off the plants and into their joint basket.

"Thank you, Londo," the Narn acknowledged him, "I am truly touched that you have deigned to join me in my original, natural state of animal innocence."

"Great Maker," the Centauri muttered, "These damn seeds are very rough on the skin, aren't they? Why don't they give us gloves?"

" _Give_ us gloves?" G'Kar retorted, "They have just taken mine away, along with the rest of my clothes and other accoutrements. _You_ no doubt could arrange to have a pair of velvet gloves delivered directly to you, of course."

The pair worked together for the next couple of hours, G'Kar never pausing a moment in his work and Londo stopping every few minutes to straighten his back. Finally, Londo Mollari collapsed on the side of the wild rugba patch, exhausted from all of his exertion.

"G'Kar, how is it that you have so much stamina for this kind of thing?" he asked, wiping the sweat off his brow with a silver handkerchief, "You just keep working and working. I am finding these work conditions to be intolerable. No one has even asked us whether we want a drink."

"When I was a pouchling, back on Narn, we would be beaten severely if we paused in our work. There, we were engaged in pounding Spoo worms for food production—a very depressing task, I can tell you. I much prefer the work here—the rugba does not squirt its insides back at you."

"Well, I am going to the Sylkos' cottage to demand that they supply us with a jug of water, at the very least!"

"Do make sure you put your clothes back on, Prime Minister. The Sylkos will no doubt run screaming from you if they see you in your underwear."

"Oh, shut up— _Ilan_!" Mollari growled, hastily putting his trousers and shirt back on. He left his jacket on the big rock which had been serving as his throne for part of the time that he had been observing G'Kar's work habits.

The big Narn found that he could work faster and more efficiently without Londo Mollari constantly chattering in his ear. He had already filled fifty baskets; his regal Centauri companion had barely filled eight. He returned to the side of the rugba patch in order to collect another basket, but he realized that he was now out of baskets. He took a moment to sit on Mollari's rock "throne" and look at his surroundings. He breathed in the country air deeply, allowing the clean air to soothe his soul. He closed his eyes and recited a prayer to G'Quan, the traditional spiritual icon for many Narns—or at least he had been the icon before " _The Book of G'Kar",_ G'Kar's best-selling holy book, had supplanted sales of the " _Book of G'Quan"._ Now the people of Narn were beginning to look upon G'Kar himself as an icon, to his horror. He thought for a moment that he was almost relieved to be here, where no one really recognized him, and where they most certainly did not regard him as a spiritual icon.

As he sat on the rock, he drank in the deep warmth of the sun. It was the first time in a long while that he had felt the rays of a sun on his dark, spotted skin. Ordinarily on Narn, his people wore clothing which covered most of their bodies, since the dust and sand which drifted about on their near-desert world was too much of an irritant to their bare skins. Very few people on Narn wore the loincloths anymore, except for perhaps very old, traditional Chieftain Elders of small villages.

Without anyone around to gawk at his near-naked body, he found it very freeing to have shed most of his clothes. It was ironic that he was feeling this way while he was surrounded by injustice and slave labor, but the natural world did not adhere to the dictates of politics and the illusion of power. He was about to shed his idiotic red loincloth as well, when suddenly he heard a female voice call his "name".

"Ilan!" The voice said, and he recognized it instantly. He turned to face the female Narn who had uttered his old name.

"Arel!" he murmured, "Can it be you—the beautiful girl from Arkonn Charisa's Spoo Farm?"

"Ilan, I would recognize your proud _Sha'dra'sha_ anywhere at any age. You are the spirit boy from my youth."

"I am no longer a boy, as you can see, Arel," he responded softly, "and you...a fully grown Narn woman. I had always hoped but had never known if you and your family had survived the Resistance. Were you shipped here at a very early age?"

"I was shipped over here at age twelve, on one of the last transport shuttles to Centauri Prime," she explained, "My family remained loyal to the Charisa family to the end. We were then brought over with them when they fled Narn—they were one of the last Centauri families to flee Narn. It was a sad day when we left Narn; and yet my father knew that if we stayed the Resistance Fighters would kill us, for we were considered Centauri Loyalists.

"When you ran off to join the Resistance, Ilan, at such a young age—it was then that my soul lost a piece of itself. How is it that you have been re-captured now? Was it during the most recent occupation?"

"No," G'Kar responded, "I was captured and tortured at one point during the second occupation, but I managed to free myself and our world...with the help of the man who enslaved it in the first place, Londo Mollari."

"Prime Minister Mollari?" Arel asked, "Are you his servant now, Ilan?"

"No, I am his colleague and bodyguard; but because of the moronic Centauri bureaucracy, I must spend some of my time here as a laborer."

"Will you then walk free...once the bureaucratic business is cleared up?"

"I certainly hope so, Arel...and I must mention that I am no longer called _Ilan._ It is true that I must be referred to in that fashion at the moment, in order to flatter Lord Styella's ego; but my true name, the name I chose for myself after I joined the Resistance as a small pouchling, is _G'Kar._ "

"G'Kar!" Arel exclaimed, "What a noble spirit-name! I know your poor parents would have been proud. But what about your Uncle—Gorran? Did he survive?"

"He became G'Sten, a mighty Warleader of our people," G'Kar explained, "But he died recently in the war between us and the Centauri."

"G'Kar, I am so sorry," Arel murmured, "Did any of your family survive the Second Attack on our world?"

"My First-Mate and our immediate family managed to survive by hiding in the underground caves near G'kamazad," G'Kar informed her, "She and my adult children are working very hard to aid in the re-building process."

"And...you are not there with them, after you and Narn were freed?"

"I have gone back to Narn to visit," G'Kar responded sadly, "But my mate and I have lived separately for many years, and she understands that I must perform my duties elsewhere for our people. I am presently living and working on a space station as a diplomat to the Interstellar Alliance."

"I don't understand why you and your mate have lived separately for so many years...did you not get along with each other?"

"It was my fault, really," G'Kar told her, "We had mated and birthed too many pouchlings at a very young age, and I was not truly mature enough to understand the responsibilities of being a pouch-father. I thought only of war and vengeance, so my brother helped her to pouch and raise the children while I was off defending Narn with my Uncle G'Sten. She understood the sacrifices that we needed to make, but even so I behaved badly throughout most of our mate-ship. I am still officially her mate, but we have long since gone our separate ways."

"I think that you must be very lonely, G'Kar," Arel replied, "As am I. I too have birthed and raised many pouchlings, through numerous matings which were arranged by the Sylkos. Some of my older pouchlings have been shipped off to other farms, and I never see them now."

"That is outrageous," G'Kar clenched his teeth in anger, "They should be imprisoned for taking your pouchlings away from you, Arel."

"No, G'Kar," Arel sighed, "That's just the way things work here."

It was at this point in the conversation that Londo Mollari chose to return, with a large jug of water in his hands and two cups.

"Hello, G'Kar," he greeted the Narn, "I see that you have made yet _another_ female friend. Do you ever stop collecting girl-friends for your considerable harem, hmm?"

"Oh, be quiet," G'Kar snapped, "This is Arel. She and I were once good friends when we were pouchlings back at the Charisa farm on Narn long ago. We were simply comparing our experiences of the First Glorious Centauri Occupation. Arel, this annoying creature is Londo Mollari, my monster-companion."

"I hope he has been telling you only the most marvelous things about me, madam," Mollari said, walking over to her and kissing her hand. Arel stared at her hand after he had kissed it, confused by his odd behavior.

"Arel is not accustomed to Prime Ministers who kiss her hand," he admonished the Centauri, "And I see that you have actually brought me a cup from which to drink. I imagine Mistress Sylko was most distressed by that...for shame, Mollari!"

"Yes, yes, all right, G'Kar," Londo muttered in resignation, pouring one cup for Arel and the other for G'Kar, "I know and accept my status as a lowly monster—so unlike you, my Great Spiritual Leader G'Kar."

As he handed them their cups, Arel stared at him, seemingly shocked by the strange rapport between the two should-be enemies.

"Prime Minister," she finally asked, "Why do you treat us as though we were your equals? We are Narns, after all."

"We _are_ his equals!" G'Kar stormed, "You are as important as he is, Arel. Why should the Centauris be given all the glory? I wish I could take you with me to Babylon 5, the space station where I work as an interstellar diplomat. There, you would learn that Narns are intelligent and capable beings and not underlings as the Centauris would have you believe! Arel, I beg of you, don't let them take away your dignity, your identity!"

"They have not, G'Kar; but we do need to survive in Centauri society. We are not living on Narn or Babylon 5, and so we must make certain concessions to the way in which we are treated. Most of us on the farms do not want to die in a bloody, murderous resistance movement, like so many of our compatriots back on Narn did. Yes, we want greater freedom, but we know that we will not obtain it by murdering Centauris. I know you want to lead us out of tyranny—you have wanted to do that since you were a pouchling back at the Charisa farm. But here, we have a lush, green world to live in, and not a desert! You know we cannot go back to Narn—we are too influenced by Centauri culture, and we would be killed by vengeful Narns. We would be branded as "Loyalists" just as we were when we left our home planet. Whether we are full Narns or Narn/Centauri hybrids, we are all _Nenta._ We must live in between our two peoples' hatred. What else can we do?"

"I don't know," G'Kar replied, "But I do know that I can't simply bring five million of you back to Babylon 5 as I would like to do. We must choose a leader for the Nenta, Arel. Someone who could go to Babylon 5 and advocate for the Nenta people on Centauri Prime—to shame the Centauris into restoring your peoples' natural birthright to freedom."

"And who do you have in mind for this position, G'Kar?" Mollari asked, "Ra'Laine or Arel? Or will they both go back with you to live in your quarters and learn how to plot rebellions?"

"Mollari, you are not being fair to me," G'Kar replied tersely, "Did you know the extent of this situation before you had Vir bring me to this farm? Did you know about these...Nenta?"

"Of course not, G'Kar!" Mollari responded defensively, "I would never have brought you out here if I thought that it would become as complicated as this. I thought we were going to arrange for a few of the more recently arrived Narns to travel back to their home-world, and that is all!"

"You have lived all your life on this planet, Mollari," G'Kar said quietly, "Did you not ever notice that five million genetically manipulated Narns and Nenta lived here?"

"All of this has taken place on the farmlands, G'Kar," Mollari explained, "And I am an aristocrat. I have been involved in political duties at the royal court all of my life. I never had time to take pleasure trips out to the country!"

"You aristocratic power-lords are so out of touch with your own people, that you do not even know what is taking place within the ranks of the lower classes? I find that disgraceful, Mollari."

"Do not lecture me about disgrace, G'Kar!" Mollari responded hotly, "You Narns have not been overly kind to your own people from the Lower Circles, either. Right now you enjoy a great deal of sympathy from the other worlds because you were so badly treated by us. But do not forget how badly you treated others, just four or five years ago! Did you and your heroic Uncle G'Sten not enslave populations during your own glorious conquests? Do not be a hypocrite, G'Kar."

"Is that true, G'Kar?" Arel asked him, "Did you do to others what the Centauri did to us?"

G'Kar glared at Mollari, but his expression softened when he looked into Arel's questioning eyes.

"Yes, Arel," he admitted, "I did. I became a member of the ruling body of our world, the Kha'Ri. I both ordered and led a number of attacks, including one on Ragesh 3, the Centauri agricultural colony."

"Ragesh 3?" Arel exclaimed, "I had friends and family members who had been transferred to that colony! What did you do with the Narns and Nenta there?"

"I..." G'Kar hesitated for a minute.

"Well, G'Kar?" Mollari asked him, "What _did_ your soldiers do with your own people? I know well what they did to mine."

"I had never heard about any _Nenta,"_ G'Kar finally told them, "But my Fleet Commander informed me that...the Narns who would not swear allegiance to the Narn Regime at that time would be sold as slaves on Narn."

"And did you rebuke your Fleet Commander? Did you protest this action within your governmental position?" Arel prodded him, her voice tense.

"No," G'Kar admitted sadly, hanging his head, "I did not, Arel. I was too filled with my own hatred of the Centauris. I'm ashamed to admit that I never even considered intervening on behalf of the Centauri-Loyalist Narns."

Arel gave her cup back to Mollari.

"And will you consider intervening on their behalf now, G'Kar?" Arel asked quietly, "Since you seem so willing to do so for our people here on Centauri Prime."

"The Second Occupation threw our entire economy into collapse," G'Kar told her, "We do not any more have the infrastructure or the strength to maintain a slave trade...but I will make some inquiries and try to find out what happened to the Loyalist slaves after the Centauri invasion."

"I would very much appreciate that, G'Kar," Arel said, "And perhaps Ra'Laine might consider going to your space station to represent all of us here on Centauri Prime, both Nenta and Narn—if the Centauris allow it. But I do warn you that Ra'Laine will not keep quiet about any atrocities that she hears about that have taken place against us by the Narn Regime. If Ra'Laine goes, or even if I were to go to this space station, we would shame the Narn government just as vigorously as the Centauri one."

"I would not expect either of you to keep quiet, of course," he responded, "I am so sorry, Arel. I know you must be very disappointed in me, but I am not what is important in all of this. What is important is that your people establish a voice within the Interstellar Alliance. I would very much like to see both you and Ra'Laine go to Babylon 5. I don't suppose you could arrange it, Mollari?"

"Right at the moment, I don't seem to be able to arrange my way out of a paper bag," Mollari answered, "But I will try my best—once we have gotten you out of this mess, my dear friend G'Kar."

Arel looked into G'Kar's eyes intently for a few minutes.

"I believe I now understand, G'Kar," she said to him, "How it is that you could be friends with a monster like Londo Mollari. You are so much like him."

With that, Arel walked away from the two of them.


	4. Bureaucratic Requirements

10

 _ **G'Kar and Mollari: The Discovery of the Nenta**_

 _ **Chapter Four: Bureaucratic Requirements**_

It had been over a week since Vir Cotto had left to try to fulfill the bureaucratic requirements for rescuing G'Kar from his enslavement. Mollari had heard back from him only once, and at that time he was at the Charisa estate trying to convince Lukkon Charisa to give him written permission for Styella to transfer ownership of "Ilan" over to Londo Mollari. He was also waiting for the written permission necessary from the court bureaucrats, who were the only ones in the whole Republic authorized to sign transfers of ownership.

G'Kar thought that he had never before known such a badly organized Empire as the Centauri one. He wondered how they had ever become so powerful in the first place, with their ridiculously rigid laws and ludicrous bureaucratic quagmires.

Meanwhile, he had been transferred over to the planting fields to help the other workers harvest the endless fields of _khana,_ a variety of red Centauri vegetable. These were easier to harvest than rugba, but they required that the harvesters stoop over to pick the vegetables from the short, stubby plants. It was back-breaking work because of that, but G'Kar had been too well-conditioned as a youngster to stop and straighten his back. He used to crouch over the millions of Spoo worms that had been dropped onto the wooden "pounding floor" and he would pound them into gelatin form for hours upon hours. If he dared to stand up at any point, the supervising Narn servant would beat him with a stick. His mother used to help with the Spoo production process, and there was something in the pre-processed Spoo that had caused her to become very ill. She had died not long after the Master, Arkonn Charisa, had ordered G'Kar's father killed. G'Kar, or "Ilan" as he was known at that time, had been rendered an orphan. His anguish had been so overpowering that the young pouchling had stolen a weapon from one of the Centauri guards at the Spoo farm and killed him. Then, he had run away to join the resistance. Later, when the Centauris had been bombing his world in retribution for the Narns' bloody rebellion, he had reunited with G'Quarn's brother, G'Sten.

G'Sten had raised and trained the young, newly re-named G'Kar and had taught him all he knew about becoming a soldier of the resistance. G'Sten had given G'Kar back the pride and dignity that had been stolen from him as a young Spoo-worker and servant of the Centauri Master. His uncle became his hero, the one he had always wanted to emulate. G'Sten had been less focused on hatred than his nephew, and more on military strategy and duty to the collective Narn population. He had taught G'Kar to control his impulses of rage when it was necessary, so that he would not become a dangerous maniac in battle. G'Sten had provided him with the skill of self-discipline, and G'Kar had always been grateful for this early training. Without it, he knew that he would have been an uncontrolled butcher; his desire for revenge used to be that strong. When he had witnessed his father's death, and after his mother had passed away from her work-related illness, he could no longer contain his hatred of the Centauri Master. Arkonn had betrayed his loyal servants by killing G'Quarn, simply because he had spilled a drink on the mistress by mistake. G'Kar had once looked upon Arkonn Charisa as a kind of stern father-figure, but after the Centauri Master had ordered G'Quarn killed he could no longer stand to grovel before the prideful monster. He left because he knew that he would have attempted to kill Arkonn, and many of the other Narn slaves would have died as a result. Even the loyalists like Arel's family members would have been killed by the spiteful Charisa family.

G'Kar could not help but feel the old rage returning as he looked out over the khana fields and saw his people stooped over and working for the Centauri butchers once again.

 _Does it ever end,_ he thought to himself.

"G'Kar!" The sound of a familiar voice brought him out of his painful recollections. G'Kar permitted himself to stand for a minute in order to greet Mollari, who had been working alongside the Narns and Nentas all week long. The Prime Minister had long since switched from wearing his underwear to wearing workers' coveralls to harvest the khana.

To G'Kar's surprise, he was leading a group of young aristocrats into the fields, all of whom were dressed in coveralls and who sported spotlessly clean working gloves.

Mollari and his troop stopped in front of G'Kar. The Narn workers were somewhat befuddled by this sudden appearance of the aristocratic workers, but none of them dared to pause in the middle of their work; they simply kept their heads down and continued to focus on their khana-picking.

"G'Kar," Mollari announced, "We have some good news. Vir has managed to obtain written permission for an ownership transfer from the bureaucrats back at the Centaurum. He had to threaten to drop a big load of live Spoo worms on the floor of their offices, but now they have finally moved their backsides long enough to accomplish something."

"And who are all these young people, Mollari?" G'Kar asked, curious as to what they planned to do.

"Ah, yes—the young people," Mollari replied, sounding as if he did not entirely approve of them being here, "Well, it seems that the word has spread amongst them that the Prime Minister has been working in coveralls all week alongside Narn and Nenta workers. These youngsters have decided to follow my example as a kind of...anti-slavery protest, you might say. I have tried my best to dissuade them, but they are adamant. They are tired of Centauris being labeled as the Universe's butchers, and they wish to do something in favor of peace and justice."

"Prime Minister Mollari has become a hero amongst us," explained one young man, who sported a short ruff of blonde hair, arranged into a small fan-tail, "We wish to do what he is doing to protest the use of unpaid Narn and Nenta laborers...as well as the use of genetic manipulation on our captive populations."

"We have decided to follow his example as a protest to our elders. We no longer wish to follow the ways of the past—the ways of conquest and injustice," declared a young woman, whose head was shaved bald in the manner of most Centauri women, both upper and lower class.

G'Kar looked at the group in astonishment, and for once he was at a loss for words.

"There, you see, G'Kar?" Mollari said, throwing his arms up in the air, "There goes the future of the Centauri Republic."

"Perhaps," G'Kar told him, his tone gentle, "the Centauri Republic, in its present form at least, needs to die in order to be re-born as a truly free democracy."

G'Kar's anger, which had been building all week as he watched his people work long hours for a bountiful harvest that they would likely never enjoy, began to dissipate as he beheld the crowd of young Centauris eager to humble themselves and become temporary laborers as a demonstration to their overbearing elders.

"Thank you," he told them, "I know the other Narn workers will be very appreciative of your efforts, even if they do not say anything to you. They are no doubt very confused by all this sudden attention."

Mollari led his new students to the centre of the field, where he showed them what to do. This would no doubt be the first time in their lives that these youths had ever performed a physical labor task. The Nenta supervisors were content to let Mollari act as Chief Supervisor to these new would-be laborers, for they were terrified to say or do anything that might offend the youths' powerful families.

Ra'Laine had arrived at the fields to distribute water to the workers. When she came to G'Kar, she looked at him in bemusement.

"What am I to do with these...privileged people, coming in to work our lands?" she asked, "Am I to bring them water, or serve them a five-course meal right here in the fields?"

"Give them only what you would give us, Ra'Laine," he said to her, "That is what the young people are here for—to understand what others who are less privileged must endure."

Ra'Laine gave G'Kar a pained look of exasperation as he drank thirstily from her jug.

"You are very wise for a military monster," she finally conceded, "Arel told me about your involvement in the attack on Ragesh 3. She was heart-broken that her old childhood friend would do such a thing, but I am not surprised. I have heard that the old Narn Regime once used its own people as slaves, just as the Centauri do. From my place in the middle, both culturally and physically, I see that both species tend to mirror each others' faults."

"You are far wiser than I, Ra'Laine," G'Kar admitted, "Especially seeing as how you are a being created out of the genetic codes of both such fault-ridden species as mine and Mollari's. I fear, however, that Arel will not forgive me for my past war crimes against her people on Ragesh 3. I cannot blame her, but I do wish she would consider coming to Babylon 5 with us to speak for the Narns and Nenta on Centauri Prime."

"I have also been thinking about what you have said, G'Kar—about being a voice for the Nenta. To me, Nentas and Narns are the same, for we are both "caught in the crossfire" of your conflicts. Do you think that this...Babylon 5 place would be safe enough for me to bring Telka, my young son? I cannot afford to be away from him, for I fear the Master might sell him as a pet to one of the Aristocratic families."

"He would be as safe on Babylon 5 as he would be anywhere else," G'Kar reassured her, "I can't pretend that life on the station is without danger, but one can say the same thing about any of our worlds. You would find many other beings there who would present to you a vastly different point of view than the one you have been born into believing.

"I know that I myself have been irrevocably changed from what I used to be, just from living amidst the Babylon 5 community for five short years. If a nasty old cave-spider such as me can change his thinking and his heart, then anyone can."

"G'Kar," Ra'Laine chided him, "I have every confidence that you are no longer the same nasty cave-spider that you used to be. I would like to accept your invitation, the more I consider it. Do you think the Prime Minister could arrange for me and Telka to go? And Arel, if she is also willing to go; and, I suppose I would also have to bring my husband Spot along, for the poor old man would be lost without me."

"You could bring an entire delegation if you wished," G'Kar suggested, "There is more safety in numbers, after all."

The two beings looked at each other, the obvious issue unspoken: how would they convince the Divine Lord Styella to allow Ra'Laine and Arel to go to Babylon 5?

As if in answer to their joint question, a hovercraft swooshed over the fields and stopped at the area where Mollari and the youths were working. They watched from a distance as an irate Lord Styella stepped out of the craft to argue with Mollari. As they were shouting at each other, Lord Styella waved his cane at the young people angrily.

A second man had stepped out of the hovercraft, and it seemed to G'Kar that this man was vaguely familiar. He sniffed in the direction of the Centauris to see if he could catch a scent, but the breeze was carrying it in another direction. The younger Centauri moved in a particular way when he walked, putting his hands behind his back and cocking his head to one side.

Suddenly, it dawned on G'Kar who it was. It was the son of his old Master, Arkonn Charisa. It was Lukkon Charisa, who had been the same age as G'Kar when he had been working with his family on the Spoo farm.

Lukkon and he had become friends, in a way. Young Lukkon would sit and ask little "Ilan" about himself while he was busy planting jhalla seeds; and then Lukkon would tell Ilan a bit about his life of luxury. He would describe the latest toy that he had been given, and G'Kar remembered feeling envious. He had wished fervently that he could play with a toy instead of planting jhalla seeds or serving the master or pounding Spoo worms.

A third man was stepping out of the shuttle, and G'Kar knew exactly who it was: Vir Cotto. Had Vir been able to arrange for his freedom? He decided that he was no longer going to sit on the sidelines while Centauris debated his fate. He strode over to the group, with Ra'Laine on his heels, whispering to him to approach very carefully.

"Ilan!" Lord Styella cried when he saw G'Kar stalking over to them purposefully, "You will return at once to your picking position and resume your work!"

"No, Lord Styella, I will not," G'Kar announced firmly, "I am here to demand my freedom."

"Not quite yet, G'Kar," Mollari attempted to mollify him, "We still need Lukkon to sign the papers and I need to write that ridiculous examination. I have already filled out an application form for ownership. We are almost there, G'Kar, but you must have patience!"

"I have run out of patience," he snarled menacingly, "I have already shown the patience of a stone statue, and I am sick of this tomfoolery. I am declaring my freedom now, Mollari! I will not wait for you to "own" me."

"I understand, Ilan," Lord Styella exclaimed angrily, "that you are inciting other servants to rebellion—that you have been putting ideas in Ra'Laine's head that she go to your space station as some kind of a...Nenta resistance leader. I will not tolerate this behavior from you any longer! I have informed the Prime Minister that we must imprison you—I'm afraid any sale to Mollari will now be impossible."

"Lord Styella, please be reasonable!" Mollari pleaded, "I will take full responsibility for G'Kar's behavior. Place him in my custody and I will ensure..."

"His name is _not_ G'Kar!" Styella interrupted, "It is Ilan!"

"G'Kar," Ra'Laine whispered, "You must restrain yourself. Otherwise, there will be no hope of us going with you to Babylon 5."

G'Kar knew that she was right, but he was so fed up with being treated as an inferior that he felt that he could stand it no more. He had become accustomed during most of his adult life to being treated with reverence, first as a Narn warrior and then as an author and ambassador. The Narn-Centauri conflict, however, had at many times brought him back to his unhappy childhood, when he and his family were misused and humiliated by the Centauri overlords. The child in him was again ready to rebel. His wiser and more mature aspect, though, bade him to wait a while longer.

He stared at Lukkon Charisa, who stared back with a kind of pained recognition.

"Hello, Ilan," he greeted the Narn warily.

"Master Lukkon," G'Kar replied, unable to hide the resentment in his voice.

"G'Kar, I have been speaking with Lukkon, and we have almost got him to agree to give me written permission to purchase you," Mollari explained, "Give us a bit longer, I beg you. Vir has told President Sheridan what has happened, and he has been putting pressure on our government to release you. He will ban exports from Centauri Prime until your freedom is secured."

"And what about the others here?" G'Kar asked, "Ra'Laine and her family must be allowed to go to Babylon 5 to represent her people here, both Narns and Nenta. The others must hear of their plight!"

"That is out of the question!" Styella interjected, "I have summoned the guards. Ilan, I'm sorry, but you have crossed a line that is not permitted here. You must be imprisoned."

An armored hovercraft flew over to where they had all congregated. Several armed men jumped out and put shackles on G'Kar. They then led him into the craft, amidst loud and angry protests from Mollari.


	5. Free G'Kar!

10

 _ **G'Kar and Mollari: The Discovery of the Nenta**_

 _ **Chapter Five: Free G'Kar!**_

G'Kar sat in his prison cell, an activity that he had become rather accustomed to in the past two years. He had been imprisoned at the Centauri royal court, of course, in their dark and horrible dungeons while being slowly tortured by Emperor Cartagia during the Occupation; but he had also spent time in a Babylon 5 prison cell after he had attacked both Londo and Vir. He had been under the influence of _dust_ when he attacked them—a drug which temporarily granted telepathic powers to its user, but which also had certain delirium-inducing effects as well.

It was during this time that he had learned all the secrets of Londo Mollari by mentally forcing him to give up his thoughts and memories to his attacker. He had learned of Londo's dealing with the Shadow-man, Morden, and he had learned that Mollari had been behind all of the powerful attacks on Narn bases and colonies.

G'Kar had essentially engaged in a "mind rape" on Mollari, but he had been stopped by a vision that he had received of his father and the holy prophet G'Quan. They had warned him that if he stayed on his present course, he would ensure the extinction of the Narn race. If, however, he was willing to sacrifice some so that all might be saved, he was told by G'Quan that the Narn people might have a chance at survival. G'Kar had been overcome with awe in the face of this vision, and he had at that point seen the angelic form of G'Lan, a Narn spiritual figure. The vision had been short and simple, but it had profoundly changed the way G'Kar thought and acted.

He had been found guilty of assault and charged as a result of his violent attack, but his sojourn in prison had given him the time he needed to pray, think, and write. It was in prison that he was inspired to write a spiritual treatise which later became known as " _The Book of G'Kar"._ He had later led all the other Narns on Babylon 5 to aid then-Captain Sheridan in breaking away from the 'Shadow-influenced' Earth government. Many Narns were killed, both in the fight for freedom and in the fight against the Shadows/Vorlons; but their sacrifices helped to ensure later survival for many more people of all species.

As he thought back to that time, he realized that this specialized farm prison was the ideal spot for him to clear his mind and focus on the spirit within. He closed his eyes, intoning a prayer to G'Quan and to G'Lan. The terrible Shadow War was now over, and Mollari had cut his ties to the Shadows' now-dead emissary, Mr. Morden. Even so, there remained behind many fragments of the darkness that the "Shadow beings" had embodied.

As he stilled his mind, an image came to him, as if in a dream. He somehow realized that he was experiencing Londo Mollari's dream, and not his own. He saw the two of them as old, wrinkled men, strangling the life out of each other. It was at first an extremely disturbing image, until he was given an insight that this was an act of mercy on his part, to free the aging Emperor from some dark parasite-creature which had been living in his body and enslaving him. Mollari, it seemed, was being possessed by a force beyond his control, and he was strangling G'Kar as well, until finally both of them were dead.

G'Kar opened his eyes, alarmed. This was not like the angelic, hopeful prophecy that he had received from G'Quan/G'Lan. This was far darker, and much more personal. He felt his heart breaking for both he and Londo Mollari, for their respective losses in life.

It was at this moment of revelation that Mollari decided to pay him a visit in his prison cell. The door opened and Mollari entered, accompanied by Lord Lukkon Charisa.

"Hello, G'Kar," Mollari greeted him, "I hope you were able to obtain some sleep last night?"

"No, not particularly," G'Kar responded wearily, "I was thinking about a great many things—the past, present, and future. I feel greatly disturbed by all three at the moment."

"Cheer up, my good and dear friend G'Kar," Mollari reassured him, "I believe Lukkon is ready now to give me the written permission—he just wishes to talk with you for a moment. Shall I leave, gentlemen?"

"No," G'Kar answered firmly, "I would like you to stay, Mollari. Lukkon Charisa and I have bad blood between us, I'm afraid."

"Well, it can't be worse than ours, G'Kar," Mollari declared, but he sat down and quieted himself for the moment.

"G'Kar," Lukkon finally said to him, sitting across from him on a bench, "You and I were children during the First Occupation of Narn. When tensions broke out between our two peoples, my father, Arkonn, ordered the death of your father G'Quarn."

"Did you come here to taunt me with that fact, Lukkon?" G'Kar asked him, his bitterness returning in spite of his prior attempts to cleanse himself spiritually.

"No, G'Kar," he replied, "I came here to see if some kind of reconciliation might be possible between us. Londo Mollari has assured me that it would be possible, since you forgave him his heinous deeds..."

"I have _not_ forgiven those heinous deeds!" G'Kar boomed, "Those heinous deeds killed millions of my people. I cannot forgive such atrocities on behalf of that many Narns! I have only forgiven Mollari himself—the man, and not his actions. This may not make sense to you, I realize, but it is how I have learned to free myself from my prison of hatred."

"I see," Lukkon responded, "Well, I rather think that a man is the sum of his actions, but perhaps I am in error. At any rate, G'Kar, I am not here to discuss the tragic sins of Londo Mollari. After your father was killed, and your mother had died, you went out and stole a weapon. As small as you were—a mere infant, in fact—you managed to kill one of our guards. His name was Andon Rino, and he was for me the father that Arkonn never was. Andon used to sit with me and tell me stories, and he would give me advice on how to handle my father when he became irate and unreasonable, which was most of the time. My physical father never had much time for me; he was only interested in running his Spoo operation and keeping his Narn servants "in their place" as he called it. He was very abusive towards myself and my mother, and I hated him for it.

"I am telling you this, G'Kar, not because I expect you to harbor any sympathy for me, but so that you understand what you did to me when you killed Andon Rino. He was for me the most generous, loving man I had ever known. I know that your father G'Quarn was the same. I would see him reading you one of the few holy books that you were permitted to keep, and I used to be envious. I know you were envious of all my wealth and toys; but I truly would have given them all up to have had a father like you did, who cared deeply for your welfare."

"And so," G'Kar replied, "your father killed mine, and I killed your father-figure. Perhaps we should call it even and stop chasing memories that neither of us can change, Lukkon Charisa."

"I have not come here to talk about an even score, as if losing our fathers was like losing a game of Hair-Ball. I have come here to help you to understand my side of things, old childhood friend. I have for years felt exceedingly guilty over what Arkonn did to G'Quarn. I loved G'Quarn as well, and I was heart-broken when he died, along with your mother. I know that I did not have as close a relationship with him as you did, because of our positions in life as "slave" and "master". Even so, I want you to know that I grieved with you when he died—even if you never knew it.

"G'Kar, I must be honest. When I heard that you had been "re-claimed" by Styella, my first reaction was to close my heart to you because of what you did to Andon—my best friend when I was a small child. I found that my anger at you returned—anger that I thought had faded with the passage of time. I know you were a grieving child when you did it, but I also knew that you turned into an enemy of my people for most of your adult life. When I joined the Centauri forces to go to war against the Narns two years ago, I felt at the time that what we were doing was justified because of the savage behavior of your people towards mine. I learned later that we had been functioning as amoral butchers—using mass-drivers upon the civilians of your world. I felt guilty again over this, and I deeply regret ever having taken part in the Narn-Centauri War.

"Even so, I wanted to let you languish on Styella's farm as a humble laborer; I felt that you deserved it after everything that you had done, both during and after the first Narn Resistance. The angry child in me still wanted to punish you."

"Are you quite finished now, Master Lukkon?" G'Kar growled, "Because as you have been speaking, I have begun to smell the scent of my father's blood on your body."

"And I smell the blood of Andon Rino's on yours," Lukkon retorted, "Nonetheless, I want to see if we can access our higher and more mature aspects and attempt some kind of reconciliation. Mollari convinced me to at least try. He said that you had transformed yourself enormously within the past couple of years, and that you might be ready to hear my apology to you for my father's crimes...which I now offer you fully and unconditionally."

"Does your father still live?" G'Kar asked, the anger draining from him once again.

"No," Lukkon replied, "He was assassinated by a political rival for some crime that he had committed against the rival's family. I must admit that I did not shed one tear for him. In that, you and I are united, I am sure."

G'Kar sighed. Lukkon had just apologized for the crime which had given birth to his poisonous hatred of the Centauris in the first place. Could he possibly forgive the Charisa family for what they had done to his parents? As he pondered this, he thought of the actions he had taken in the past, and of how many Centauris he had directly or indirectly harmed.

"Lukkon," he finally said, after a very long pause, "I cannot forgive your family for what it did to mine. But you were a child, like me—I believe that I can find it within my battle-hardened heart to forgive you."

"There, you see, Lukkon?" Mollari interjected, "I told you that he had changed. If you knew what he was like just five years ago..."

Lukkon closed his eyes, motioning for Londo to be quiet. Mollari complied, respectfully shutting his mouth while the other Centauri traveled inwards.

"Lukkon," G'Kar said finally, "I apologize to you also for what I did to your father-figure—your friend, Andon Rino. I was an angry child, and I did not know what I was doing."

"No," Lukkon replied, "I don't suppose any of us did. Very well, G'Kar—I accept your apology, and I forgive you as well—not for the act of murder against Andon, because I cannot do so on behalf of his family—but I do forgive you, as one individual to another."

"There, at last!" Mollari cried triumphantly, clapping his hands together, "Now, I believe that everyone has finally forgiven everyone! Lukkon, you will give me the written permission to purchase G'Kar, yes?"

"Londo Mollari!" G'Kar scolded him sternly, "Give the man some time to collect himself, will you? We were not forgiving each other for stealing one another's toys, after all. Can you not show a modicum of respect?"

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I am anxious to end this business and get back to Babylon 5," Mollari replied, without sounding as though he were particularly sorry at all, "I should mention that I have ordered the young people to make up signs and demonstrate around the prison block like the Humans do, advising Styella to " _ **Free G'Kar, and Free the Nenta**_!" They have been as good at protesting as the Humans are—I am so very proud of them."

"Freeing G'Kar is not what is important, Mollari," G'Kar retorted, "I could spend an eternity in a prison cell, just praying and going within; and I would be more free than I have ever been in my life. You should try it some time. But more to the point, what is important is that Ra'Laine and Arel and their families should go to Babylon 5 to advocate for the Nenta/Narns of Centauri Prime. I don't suppose you would consider abusing your position long enough to allow a bit of justice to break through your idiotic political system?"

Lukkon Charisa was writing on a piece of paper while G'Kar and Mollari sparred back and forth. Finally, he signed it and delivered it into Londo's hand.

"Now I suppose that all I have to do is to write that silly examination," Mollari muttered.

"And you may have to pay Styella a hefty price for me," G'Kar interjected.

"I will try to get you for half-price," Mollari replied sardonically, "After all he has put us through Styella should put you on sale."

"Gentlemen," Lukkon interrupted their exchange of barbs, "I believe that I may be able to help you with old man Styella. He is my Uncle, and I believe that I may be able to convince him to let me take Ra'Laine and her delegation of Narns and Nentas to Babylon 5 for a supposed trade show. When they arrive at Babylon 5, I will then ask whoever is in charge to give them sanctuary, seeing as how they are slaves of the Republic."

"And what will your Uncle do to you when you return home without them, Lukkon?" G'Kar asked.

"I will apologize, of course, and the old man will be furious...but then he will forgive me, as he always does. I would like to do this to atone for my participation in the Narn-Centauri war. It was an unjust war, as I suppose all wars are."

"Thank you, Lukkon," Mollari said, "You are a man of true honor and grace."

The door opened at that moment and Vir Cotto walked in.

"Londo," he said, "Here is the examination that you wrote on how to be a good slave-owner...or at least, that I wrote for you. You got a perfect score!"

"Ah, Vir, my boy, you are a genius!" Mollari gushed, "We now have all the paperwork that we need, hmm?"

"Yes, Sir," Vir informed him, "And the students have continued to press Styella to free G'Kar and the others. There have been more and more coming to the farm, in fact. I put the old man through to President Sheridan, and he convinced Styella that it would be better for business if he started the process of transitioning from having unpaid to paid laborers. They were talking for quite a while over Styella's com link, and to make a long story short, I think he's going to give you G'Kar for free."

"I am to be a 'freebie'?" G'Kar asked in a slightly offended tone.

"Vir!" Mollari exclaimed, "That is marvelous! Do we still need this idiotic paperwork?"

"No, Londo—Styella's decided to re-write his handbook, and his examinations. And, he's going to accompany Ra'Laine and the others to Babylon 5 in order to negotiate a better economic relationship with the Interstellar Alliance. President Sheridan invited him, and the President's also been putting as much pressure on the government as he can to free the Nenta."

"Ah, the government," Mollari mused, "I suppose that would be me. As Prime Minister, I agree with President Sheridan. Let us begin the process, yes? And, you have done good work, Vir my boy!"

Londo slapped Vir's back approvingly before he turned his attention to Lukkon Charisa.

"Lord Lukkon, I believe you will no longer need to mislead your Uncle, but thank you so much for the offer. Who would have thought that Lord Styella would listen to Sheridan, a Human?"

The guard came in to open the cell door, bringing along G'Kar's lost clothes and other accoutrements. G'Kar dressed himself gratefully before walking out of the cell as a free Narn.

 _With luck and hard work ,_ he thought, _the Nenta will one day be free as well._


	6. Friends Until the End

5

 _ **G'Kar and Mollari: The Discovery of the Nenta**_

 _ **Chapter Six: Friends Until the End**_

G'Kar, Londo, and Vir were finally on their way back to Babylon 5 aboard the Centauri passenger ship, the _Vilirak._ They had just finished their dinner, and now they sat quietly in the lounge looking out at the stars.

"Ah—the stars!" cried Mollari contentedly, "Are they not magnificent?"

"You seem unusually thrilled to have left the beautiful Centauri countryside," G'Kar noted, "Do you not miss the trees and the birds? I do."

"No, my dear friend, I do not miss the trees and the birds. I am a Star-Man! And besides that, I am relieved to have left Centauri Prime, where I am a prisoner of my responsibilities. I will not have much more freedom left to me, especially if I become Emperor. And so—back to my favorite haunt—Babylon 5! I must admit that I have become fond of the old floating tin that the Humans created."

"So have I," admitted G'Kar, "and I will not miss your world's politics, Mollari. I will, however, miss the trees, the birds, the wexls...and the breeze on my face."

"And a certain Nenta female, hmm?" Mollari added slyly, "Although with any luck you will see her and your other girl-friend on Babylon 5 very soon. Styella is anxious to begin the negotiations there, and to end the export ban after he meets with Sheridan."

"Ra'Laine's husband, G'Quarn, will be accompanying her," G'Kar told them, "And I do not think Arel will wish to be my "girl-friend" as you so delicately put it, Mollari. As for Styella, he had better stay away from me with that golden cane of his. If he whacks me on the ass with it one more time, I shall claw his into pieces."

"G'Kar, such indelicate language," Mollari quipped, "I think we have both been picking up bad habits from our mutual friend, Mr. Garibaldi."

Vir yawned.

"Are we keeping you awake, dear Vir?" Mollari asked good-naturedly.

"Well...no offence, Londo and G'Kar," he replied, "But I've spent the past couple of weeks running around trying to secure G'Kar's freedom, and I'm exhausted. I'm going to retire now to that gorgeous suite that Lukkon arranged for all three of us."

"Yes," G'Kar returned, "One which all three of us are obliged to share, I might add. He obviously did not want to grant me any privacy."

Vir nodded, and rose to his feet wearily.

"Mr. Cotto," G'Kar said to him before he left, "I never thanked you for all the running around that you did on my behalf...and, more importantly, for what you did to help initiate the process of giving the Nenta their freedom. I do thank you now."

"Oh, that's all right, G'Kar," Vir responded, "It was more Sheridan that convinced Styella to come to Babylon 5 with the Nenta, anyways. And, I hear that his nephew Lukkon will be accompanying him...he wishes to do something to help."

" _You_ have done a great deal to help Narns in the past couple of years, Vir," G'Kar told him, switching to the Centauri's first name, "I believe I need to buy you a long overdue drink when we get back to Babylon 5. Ten drinks, in fact...and even that would not be enough to thank you for all you did during the war to save Narn lives and transport them to safety."

In spite of his tiredness, Vir gaped at G'Kar in surprise. During their entire stay on Babylon 5, G'Kar had barely spoken ten words to him; and now, the big Narn was actually thanking him. Vir appeared to be shocked, but pleased. He gave them one of his curious side grins, his mouth sloping upwards on only one side of his face.

"Thank you, G'Kar," he finally said, "I mean, thank you for thanking me. I never thought I'd see the day when you would do that."

"I have been most remiss in not having done it before, Vir," G'Kar replied.

Vir nodded, and took his leave. As he did so, Mollari stared at him, and at G'Kar, in amazement.

"G'Kar," Mollari said to him, "You have actually thanked Vir. I did not realize that you knew he even existed."

"Is that so, Mollari?" G'Kar retorted, "And how well have you treated him over the years?"

"Yes, yes, G'Kar, I know," he conceded, "I have been bad, as usual. But I too have come to value him much more than I did in the beginning, when he first became my assistant. He never ceases to amaze me with his latent talents."

"They are not so latent now, Londo," G'Kar noted.

"My dear G'Kar," Mollari observed, "Why is it that every once in a very long while, you call me by my premier name? You had never called me anything else but 'Mollari' in the previous years."

"On the contrary, Mollari, I have called you a great many names in the previous years, and none of them were complimentary."

"Yes—well, I may have used a few of those in reference to you also."

"I believe 'bastard' was your favorite word for me, Mollari."

"And 'monster' was your favorite for me, G'Kar."

The two friends sat together sipping their drinks quietly for a time, resting their arguments and quips.

"Londo," G'Kar finally broke their silence, "I had a rather disturbing vision while I was sitting in the Styella farm prison."

"Ah, yes, G'Kar," Mollari responded, closing his eyes and laying back in his chair, "and I suppose that you are going to ruin this peaceful moment of ours by telling me what it is."

"It was about you and I. You were sitting on your throne as Emperor of Centauri Prime. We were both old men..."

"Yes, yes, G'Kar, I know this one. Did you rip this dream-memory from my mind when you were attacking me under the influence of that sordid drug known as _dust_?"

"No," G'Kar said to him, "Your dreams were not among my travels within the horror show that was your mind. This was something else...at any rate, it ended badly for both of us."

"Or," Mollari replied, "It ended well for both of us. I too have begun to have this dream again. But this time, there is a different quality to it. It is the same image—you and I squeezing the life out of each other—but since we have become friends, it seems to me that there is more hope within the dream. I feel as though you are liberating me, G'Kar...freeing me from a life of enslavement and duty to the darker elements of my nature. At any rate, both of us get to escape this life of pain and suffering, in the end."

"Yes," G'Kar murmured, "I felt that in my vision as well. It was as if we were killing each other as a kind of mercy one to the other."

"You know, G'Kar, we cannot be friends for very much longer. After I am Emperor, as it has been foretold that I will be, our little jaunts together on Centauri Prime must end. And you must promise me, my friend, that you will go out and live a very good life...a happy one, and a free one. I only ask that once in a while, you think of me, sitting on my throne of loneliness trapped by my duties as Emperor."

"Mollari, you are a very depressing person," G'Kar retorted, "But I will never forget you when you go to live in your palace-prison. And I suppose I should thank you, as well. You stayed by me the entire time that I was under enslavement at Styella's, and it meant a great deal to me. I managed to get some photos of you in your worker's coveralls from your young students, and I should very much like to post them all over Babylon 5 when we return. The others would never believe me if I told them how you were dressed, and what you were doing."

"Be careful, G'Kar," Mollari warned, "If you dare to post a single photo of me in such humble attire, I will post several hundred of you in your red Centauri underwear."

"Oh, you monster, Londo Mollari."

"Oh, you bastard, G'Kar."

The pair of them sat for a long while after that, watching the stars and pondering their respective fates.

"You and I are very odd people, G'Kar," Mollari said.

"Speak for yourself, Mollari," replied G'Kar.


End file.
